Except maybe have another word with Livia.
Lippillus came round to dinner that evening. I hardly recognised him, not because he still looked like a fresh-faced kid — I'd expected that — but because he was wearing a crisp new mantle instead of his usual grimy tunic. But the real surprise was our other guest. She was a real honey, dark-eyed and golden skinned, probably African. And no more than twenty-five.
Lippillus was grinning at me. Probably because I was trying to lift my chin off the floor.
'Corvinus. Lady Perilla,' he said. 'This is Mother. Stepmother, rather. I'm sorry. Maybe I should've told you.'
Yeah, well, some guys have all the luck. I'd bet, though, that the bastard had strung me along on purpose.
43
Two days later, I was back in the palace. The appointment had been easy to arrange, suspiciously easy in fact; it was almost as though the old witch had been waiting for me to make it. Hermes the ape was wearing a new outfit, and he smelt of lilies. Maybe one of his bosses with sensitive nostrils had taken him in hand. Or maybe he was in love. In that case I just didn't want to know.
'Ah, Hermes.' The guy with the yellow tunic looked up when we arrived and gave us his full spread of teeth. 'Don't tell me. Valerius Curtinus to see Her Excellency. He's to go straight in.'
'That's Corvinus, you bastard. As if you didn't know.' I walked up to the double doors. 'Catch you later, Hermes. Enjoy your fruit.'
The ape shambled off with a parting grunt. I knocked and went in.
Camphor. I was getting used to the smell by now. The Egyptian chair was still there too, but no portable altar; I was expected to take her word for things this time, seemingly. Or not.
Livia looked even frailer than she had four months ago. I wondered how long she'd got left.
'Sit down, Valerius Corvinus,' she said. I sat; the Egyptian chair creaked. 'So. You've completed your investigations. Your conclusion?'
'Aelius Sejanus is plotting to be the next emperor, Excellency. Legitimately. If that isn't the wrong word.'
Her eyes narrowed, but I got the impression that I'd pleasantly surprised her. 'That wasn't your brief, young man,' she said. 'I commissioned you to find out who killed my grandson Germanicus.'
'Then the answer's the same. Aelius Sejanus, with your son's connivance and consent. But of course you knew that when you called me in in the first place.'
'Did I really?' The ghost of a smile. 'Now why should I ask you to tell me something I already know?'
'Because you wanted me to find out the whole thing for myself, Excellency, not just be handed it on a plate, because that way I might not have believed you.'
'Again, why should I do that?'
'So that someone who'd outlive you would know the truth, and remember it when you were gone.'
'Ah.' She was definitely smiling now: an odd smile, the kind you see on the faces of the old Etruscans lying on top of their tombs. 'I thought you were clever. I'm glad not to be disappointed.'
'Then I'm right?'
'Perhaps. Explain further, please.'
'About Sejanus? Or about Germanicus?'
'But you said they were the same thing.'
I shifted my weight; the wood and ivory struts of the chair creaked like old bones rubbing together.
'Germanicus was preparing treason,' I said. 'Him and Agrippina. Or the other way round, rather, because Agrippina was the driving force. Only neither of them would've used that word. Agrippina was righting what she considered to be a family wrong, while your idealistic grandson saw himself as heir to Mark Antony, championing the cause of civilisation against Tiberius's pedestrian Octavian; a more successful Antony, because he had the west in his pocket as well as the east.'
'Indeed? Go on.'
'He was almost ready to make his move. The Rhine legions were with him, maybe the Pannonian ones. He had the potential support of the Greek client-kingdoms and potential control of the Egyptian corn supply. Most important of all, he was the darling of Rome and Italy. In other words he had everything but Spain, Gaul and the African coast. And Syria. He needed Syria and its four legions to close the gap.'
'I'm impressed, Corvinus. Carry on, please.'
'The problem was that the emperor knew what the guy was up to all along; maybe he'd been suspicious ever since the Rhine mutiny when Germanicus had fouled things up for him personally while coming up smelling of roses himself. He couldn't take direct action, because Germanicus was too popular, but he could and did set a honey trap. He sent him east with full powers of deputy and sat back to see what would happen. Only he didn't just sit back, he appointed Calpurnius Piso as the Syrian governor, with secret instructions to keep his eyes open and report any signs of active or potential treason. And he passed over the conduct of the war against his son — we'll call it a war, because that's what it was — to the person most capable of dealing with it, Aelius Sejanus. Sejanus was given a free hand to do whatever was necessary to preserve the security of the empire. And of its current emperor.'
'And of its current emperor. Indeed.' Livia's mouth twisted. '"Let the consuls see to it that no harm befall the state".' The wording of the senate's traditional Emergency Decree. 'Only for consuls read Sejanus. Very good, young man. Almost full marks, in fact.'
'Almost?'
She frowned. 'I'm afraid you rather underestimate Sejanus. He is not a man to — how shall I put it? — to wait for events to dictate his actions.'
Uh-huh. Right. I hadn't thought of that angle, but it fitted. 'You mean Sejanus actively helped Germanicus's plot along? Gave the guy the occasional nudge in the right direction to make sure he stepped out of line?'
'I didn't say that.'
'No, but it's what you meant, Excellency. Publius Vitellius was Sejanus's agent. He was on Germanicus's staff, he was involved in the plot, and he would've offered advice and suggestions. Yeah. I should've spotted that.'
'Never mind.' The smile again. 'You've really done remarkably well otherwise. Remarkably well.'
'So.' I leaned back and the old bones whispered. 'Sejanus through his agent Vitellius has Germanicus poisoned. Up to now he's been following instructions, more or less, but from here on in he starts playing his own game in tandem. Piso plays into his hands, or maybe someone — Domitius Celer, say — gives him one of Sejanus's nudges. Whatever the reason, relying on his secret deal Piso tries to retake the province by force. The guy's quite within his rights, because Germanicus is a traitor and most of his senior staff are in on the scam. Only Piso's misread the situation completely: Germanicus's treason is the one thing that Tiberius can never admit publicly. Because no one would ever believe him.'
Livia nodded. 'Unfortunate but true. My son has always had a problem relating to people. Even — or especially — when he is telling them the truth.'
I couldn't detect any sign of regret in her voice, despite the words she'd used; but maybe that was just me. I suspect they'd never really liked each other, even in the good days.
'Right,' I said. 'So now I'm guessing. Sejanus does his snake-in-the-grass act. He begins to encourage the rumours that you and the emperor were behind the death and that Germanicus was sent east especially to make it easier to arrange. At the same time he advises Tiberius to take a tough line with popular feeling for Agrippina: her husband was a traitor, why should he go through the hypocrisy of burying him like a hero? He sends a company of Praetorians to escort the funeral party to Rome, but he makes sure they give the impression of being there for crowd control rather than to honour the guy's ashes. Little touches, little nudges, but Rome and Italy are ready for them because the emperor's not popular and Germanicus and Agrippina are. The result is that by the time Piso gets back nine tenths of Rome believes that he and Plancina poisoned the blue eyed boy on Tiberius's instructions and they're howling for blood; Sejanus's intention being, of course, to weaken the emperor's street cred still further and so make him even more reliant on himself as his one and only friend against the world. This is going to be important later.' I paused. 'How am I doing, Excellency?'